She went bersek, with her hips beating a pattern against my lund.“Kya tumhare nipples ka tumhari choot ke sath direct connection hai?””Haan meri...jaan”, she said, “par is par depend karta hai ki nipples ke saath pyaar kaise kiya jaata hai. Tumhari tongue to bijli ke current ki tarah mere mammay aur pussy mein khujli macha rahi hai.”Then I stopped for real, and we both drew our breath. It was time. Silently we rose and I pulled down her salwar. My hands went to her round and slim buttocks and I. I was a different person the next day. I’d been beaten. Iknew my place. I never got rebellious again. I didn’t blink orhesitate when my wife demanded an apology as I served her and Vickbreakfast the next morning, that is, for my behavior the nightbefore – which led to the whipping. I knew from that moment on,that I had basically become enslaved to not only my wife and herhandsome black lover, but also to my family as well. You see mothertoo demanded an apology in writing. . More

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